


When There’s A Burning in Your Heart

by scratchtovoid



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Friendship, Marriage, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Private Investigators, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scratchtovoid/pseuds/scratchtovoid
Summary: An innocent life has been taken. When a young boy is found murdered deep in the woods of Fox Forest, Sheriff FP Jones knows he is in over his head. He enlists Riverdale’s best investigators, his son Jughead and daughter-in-law Betty, to hunt down the dangerous killer haunting their sleepy community. While their investigation reveals the dark secrets Riverdale has tried to hide, a personal connection to the victim pushes Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge to look into the boy’s trouble home life. But solving this heinous crime might mean confronting the secrets of the past; secrets Jughead, Betty, and Archie thought they buried long ago.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones & Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 15
Kudos: 20





	When There’s A Burning in Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Seasons 1-3 of Riverdale are considered canon in this fic. I have chosen to disregard events taking place after 401. Jughead never went to prep school and Barchie never happened. I consider this a core four fic and will try to maintain a balance between Bughead/Varchie in each chapter. Because a portion of this fic is centered on Jughead, Betty, and Archie's childhood some Bughead moments may only be contained in flashbacks for a given chapter.
> 
> Each chapter switches from the past when Jug, Betty, and Archie were about 11 to present day when they are about 27. All chapters taking place in the present are marked as such. 
> 
> Didn't have a beta reader for this one, so please be forgiving of any typos. I'm trying very hard to catch them before publishing :)
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the song, You Are A Tourist by Death Cab for Cutie. Some chapter titles may also be song titles. 
> 
> Warnings: The fic centers on the death of a child. There will be mentions of violence and abuse. However, I do not plan on making any of these descriptions particularly graphic. The tone of this fic will match the tone of Riverdale. So the themes, traumas, that may appear in the show may also appear in this fic.

In the orange glow of dawn, the silence of Fox Forest was disturbed by three pairs of mud-trodden sneakers stomping down a leafy path. Decades ago, this same path was walked by the drunken teens of Riverdale. At that time, they were headed for a secret hideaway, a deserted slab of boards hidden in the canopy of a great oak to steal kisses and cigarette puffs. But as the years passed, crafty kids found new hangouts closer to town. And the abandoned platform was swallowed up by the foliage. Forgotten.

That is until it caught the eye of a lonely boy in a crown-shaped hat looking to the sky to save him from a loud and poisonous household. Intrigued, the boy, Forsythe Pendleton Jones III better known as Jughead, had set out on a mission to enlist his best friend Archie Andrews to help him turn the broken platform into a treehouse.

“It could be our secret base.” Jughead had whispered behind the jungle gym at recess. “We could fix it up together this summer!”

Archie broke into a wide grin displaying his missing tooth with pride. “I could borrow some tools from my dad! Oh, and we can stash our comics there! Make it a real man’s paradise!”

Jughead knew his best friend couldn’t resist an adventure. “Well if it’s going to be a man’s paradise, we’ll need some snacks.”

“Juggie, is food all you ever think about?” Two long blonde pigtails floated into Jughead’s line of sight. He looked up and met the soft green eyes of Betty Cooper who was hanging over the bars on top the jungle gym. A curious pout settled in between her puffy pink cheeks as she let out a whistle. “You two are up to something aren’t you?”

Archie reached both arms out to the shiny metal bars in front of them. Leaning in, he stuck his neck into the jungle gym’s center and looked up at their uninvited companion. “Sorry Betty, we’re on a mission to build a man’s paradise, no girls allowed.” Archie turned his head slightly so Jughead could catch his smirk. “Right, Jughead?”

“Ah-”

Before he could get a word in Betty swung her body under the bars and jumped down to the sand beneath their feet. “What? So I can’t come? What are you doing anyway?”

Archie stuck his tongue out and held back a giggle. “Sorry top secret!”

Betty’s face turned red and her brows knitted together. For the first time since she had interrupted their planning, Betty turned her attention to Jughead. “Best friends aren’t supposed to have secrets, right Juggie?” Her expression relaxed, eyes wide she looked at the smaller boy expectantly.

All Jughead wanted was to agree with Betty Cooper. But for once in his life he knew he couldn’t. Betty may have believed there were no secrets between best friends, but standing there with the two people in his life he was closest to, Jughead’s mind filled with all the secrets he was keeping from them. Secrets like his father’s drinking, his mother’s anger, and his little sister’s unanswered cries. Secrets like how the rent on their broken down trailer hadn’t been paid in a couple months. Secrets like how Jughead didn’t care at all about a man’s paradise; he didn’t even know what that meant really. He just wanted to build the treehouse so he had an escape, a way to spend the endless summer days that didn’t involve being home. He didn’t want to tell his friends that ever since he discovered the broken down platform, he dreamed of it being a safe haven, a place to sleep without being woken up by his drunken father or parents’ fights. A place he could take Jellybean to and know she wouldn’t be hurt or scared. He definitely didn’t want to tell his friends that building a treehouse was a distraction, a way to stop thinking about how while the other kids saw summer breaks as freedom, Jughead saw it as the end of a guaranteed lunch and his safe retreat.

So instead of agreeing with the eager looking Betty Cooper or his very annoyed ginger-haired friend, Archie, Jughead searched his brain for the best solution. And there it was! “Betty, don’t you fix up cars with your dad?” He already knew what her answer would be.

“Yup! Sure do!” Betty crossed her arms in front of her and turned her chin up towards Archie. The young girl continued her brag with a grin spread across her face. “Even flushed my mom’s radiator all on my own a month ago.”

Jughead couldn’t help the pride rising in his chest. While the rest of his world got darker and colder every day with the battle raging at home, Jughead had started to notice that when Betty was around, things felt a little brighter, his heart felt a little warmer. The idea of hanging out with her a lot more this summer made him feel a kind of hope and anticipation he hadn’t felt in months.

“If we’re gonna build the best treehouse in Riverdale, we’ll need a mechanic, Archie.” Jughead crossed his arms mirroring Betty’s stance.

Archie rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the bars of the jungle gym. “Why do I feel like the two of you are ganging up on me?” All at once, Betty was a ball of excitement. Wildly she flung her arms around Archie, gathering her friend in a hug. A shock of coldness shot through Jughead’s body. It only lasted for a moment, until Betty reached an arm out to him inviting him into the friendship huddle. The three musketeers rested their heads together and leaned in close, peering at each other through their eyelashes.

Nodding Jughead relayed the plan. “Tomorrow then? We’ll meet and go through the woods?”

“We should head out early.” Betty replied, always practical.

“You could sleep over my house, Jug, and we’ll meet in the back yard.” Archie offered.

Betty nodded. Jughead couldn’t keep a smile from sneaking across his lips. “Alright then, tomorrow before dawn. Betty, you bring some tools.”

“I’ll get some wood from the garage,” Archie said before turning to Jughead, “and some snacks from the fridge.” Betty laughed.

“What are you bringing to the table, Jughead?” Archie asked with a playful slap to his friend’s back.

Betty cut in before Jughead could give Archie a proper answer, “Juggie’s got the vision.”

“Vision?” both boys questioned.

“Jughead’s mind is the best we could ask for.” Betty Cooper said with the warmest smile Jughead had ever seen.

And that was how it started. The adventure that led three friends stopping down a hidden dirt path in the early morning light to build their own sanctuary from a town filled with secrets bubbling just under the surface.

PRESENT DAY

FP Jones slowly pulled his cruiser up to the clearing at the end of the dirt road. His headlights lit up a rusted red pick up truck sitting alone among the looming trees. Leaning against it, a lanky boy with a pimpled faced held a hand to block the light. FP saw a shadowed figure in the pick up’s passager seat. He put the cruiser in park but left it running, letting the headlights stream into the shadows. The boy gave him a shaky wave as FP got out of the cruiser, flashlight in hand. “You the one that called me?” FP called across the clearing.

“Yes sir.” The boy replied, his shaky voice coming across louder than it should have been in the quiet forest.

FP nodded to the front of the truck. “Who’s that with you?”

The boy’s eyes darted from FP to the pick up’s back window. “My girlfriend. We were- we- ah- she was with me when we found…” The boy squeezed his eyes shut, shuffling slightly in his jacket.

FP watched with a weary eye, taking in the teen’s nerves. “Can you show me? Can you do that, son?”

The boy’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with what FP recognized as fear. “I-” the boy turned slightly peering with horror into the woods behind him. “I- don’t-”

“It’s alright,” FP caved. “Just point me the direction.” Riverdale’s sheriff turned his flashlight on and scanned the forest’s edge noting a small break in the treeline. “That way?” The boy nodded. “Alright. Wait in the front seat till I come back. Check on your girl.” The older man drew on his snakeskin courage. Steeling his jaw with a deep breath. “But stay put.”

With a slow, sure step, FP followed the packed-down earth that formed a small uneven trail through the foliage. Around him the forest floor was littered with beer cans and candy wrappers, colorful paper sticks once filled with Jingle Jangle, and, as he crept deeper into the dark, condom wrappers and liquor bottles. FP kept his focus as he waded through the teenage relics. Pushing down a stirring parental instinct, he trained the flashlight beam carefully on the path ahead of him taking in the scene as an investigator.

FP stopped as the beam of his flashlight fell on a scattering of leaves along the trail, evidence of a struggle. The dirt beneath him looked disturbed; two deep gashes were dug into the mud, trailing off into the darkness. Carefully, FP stepped to the side of the path, inching forward without disturbing what might be evidence later on. His stomach clenched as he pressed on, noting the gashes in the dirt seemed to be spaced only inches apart, perfectly matching the impression of two hands wounding the forest floor in a desperate fight for life. Bile began to rise in FP’s throat as the flashlight caught drops of blood seeping into the disturbed soil. And then the scene came into view, the full horror realized as FP froze at the edge of a small clearing deep in the woods. The forest’s trees loomed down in mourning, hiding the stars from view. Only a few beams of moonlight broke through partially bathing the figure in clearing’s center in a ghostly veil.

FP’s muscles rejected his sheriff's duty. He could not move. His eyes stared blankly ahead, his brain refusing to translate the image in front of him into logical sense. There in tiny clearing, amongst the trash and dying leaves, left behind, left alone, was a boy. A boy lay unnaturally still in the cold of the chilly late summer night, curled to his side in a pool of blood. FP’s breath caught in his chest.

Another child fallen prey to the evil of Riverdale.

PRESENT DAY - The Lodge Residence

Veronica Lodge’s life did not know stillness. Everyday since the moment she was born had been a flurry of activity. There was always something to be done. An event to plan, friends that needed match-making, a business to run. Veronica Lodge stopped for no one. Not even for her beau Archie Andrews, a ginger stallion who had stolen her heart in high school and who had kept it ever since. Veronica and Archie had parted ways after high school - briefly - when Veronica had moved to Boston to attend Harvard. They tried to make it work but their long distance affair had fallen victim to the drama of a daytime soap opera. There was misunderstandings, jealousy, and an unfortunate break up that lasted over a year. It was, in Veronica’s mind, an angst worthy of a Shakespearean tragedy only this time with a happy ending. The turmoil had made them stronger.

By the time Veronica had finished her four years in Boston, she knew exactly what she wanted her future to look like and it started with moving back to Riverdale. Not to mention starting the very first maple rum business in upstate New York- the most successful one the country had ever seen. Luna Rum was exported all over the world, raking in the sales and raking in the millions, much to the delight of Veronica and her fiery business partner Cheryl Blossom. Next step? Throwing the biggest wedding Riverdale had ever seen to marry her soulmate.

“Well that’s not what we agreed on.” Veronica spoke sternly into her phone. She was lounging on her plush, 100% cotton, deep-seated sofa. The gold-stitched handcrafted pillows she had specifically flown-in from Venice were propped under her bare heels and nestled behind her neck. Veronica casually reached a perfectly manicured hand toward the antique stonewashed coffee table she’d discovered at an estate sale a couple years back. Gingerly, Veronica picked up her wine glass. On the other end of the line, her wedding planner was apologetically rattling off excuses for why the center pieces Veronica had ordered were currently housed in tiny white baskets instead of the perfectly exquisit eggshell cream ones she had ordered. Veronica was beginning to wonder why she had bothered with a planner at all. No one understood the importance of the details like Veronica did, and no one solved problems as cleverly either.

Veronica sighed and took a swig of her white wine. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll call them in the morning and talk to them myself. Now if there wasn’t anything else…” Veronica’s voice sharply dared an objection, “we’ll discuss the rest of the details tomorrow.” She ended the call and let the phone fall to the cushions beside her.

With a heavy sigh, Veronica sat up and downed the rest of her wine. If she was going to find a solution to the centerpiece problem, she was going to have to open another bottle. Veronica made her way to the full service kitchen of her penthouse apartment. She picked up the stray mail on the counter thumbing through the bills and wedding catalogs for anything that sparked her interest. Veronica heard the apartment door open in the next room. Her heart skipped a beat. No matter how many years they had been together, no matter how many years they had been apart, Archie Andrews would always make Veronica’s heart skip a beat.

“Oh Archiekins, are you home?” She called as she fluttered through the apartment. Her cheeky smile faded when she saw the shell-shocked state of her paramour. Archie Andrews looked pale, fragile, and haunted. His eyes lacked their usual earnest focus and his hair was spiked in all directions. Something had happened.

But Veronica Lodge had stood by her man through the worst of times. She had been there for him during the most devastating moments of his life. Just as he had done for her. Without a word, Veronica marched forward. She buried herself against Archie’s hard chest. Her arms wrapped around him, her fingers pressing into the tensed muscles of his back. She was there for him. Archie wrapped his arms around his lover. His hands moved up her sides, stretching along her petite shoulders. The fingers of his left hand tangled in her dark hair. He breathed her in and exhaled the pain he carried succumbing to her embrace as he clutched her tight. Leaning a cheek against the top her head he whispered the painful truth to her. “It’s one of my boys,” he said. “One of my boys was found murdered.”


End file.
